Chapter One: Shadows In The Tavern

The tavern was alive with the muted hum of hushed conversations, a tapestry of voices woven together with the soft clink of tankards. The wooden beams, weathered and worn, stretched across the ceiling, casting long, undulating shadows that swayed to an unseen rhythm. Each edge of those shadows bore the delicate touch of magic orbs, suspended in the air like fireflies in a midsummer's eve. The orbs, remnants of a power once boundless, now emitted a soft, otherworldly glow that painted the faces of the patrons with an ethereal light.

The air itself held a weight, thick with the scent of damp wood and the distant promise of rain.

Cloaked in a mantle of darkness, Starbright Shimmer moved with an almost ethereal grace through the shifting sea of patrons. His steps were as delicate and silent as a whisper carried on the wind, a testament to his years of living in the quiet embrace of the night. His eyes, a deep, endless blue, darted from face to face, like constellations mapping out the souls in the room. Each glance held a question, a silent plea, for someone in need, but he couldn't seem to spot anyone. He stood stationery and gazed at the bartender's table in front. He put his right foot forward and decided to take a seat right in front of the bartender. "Give me anything nonalcoholic, like a smoothie," he pulled out a gold coin out of his cloak.

The bartender looked at the strange visitor for a moment, but the shadow cast on his face by the hood prevented him from figuring out who he was. "Do I know you?" The man asked.

"Of course not. This is the first time I'm coming here. Now, may I have my drink?" Starbright handed the man the gold coin. The man gazed at the young man in front of him for yet another moment before making his way to the cooler. The cooler was a wooden box that kept things cold, but it ran on magic. He pulled out a smoothie from the cooler and handed it Starbright.

With a grin that could hardly be seen under his black cloak, Starbright got the smoothie and whispered, "Thank you." He took a sip through the straw and savored the beautiful taste of his strawberry flavored beverage. Suddenly, something caught his attention. He darted his eyes to the right corner of his eye and, he could see a frail figure sitting hunched, clutching a threadbare shawl around her shoulders as if it were the last tether to warmth in a cold, unforgiving world. Starbright put his smoothie down and looked at the old lady with a frown. He squinted his eyes at her and got up from his seat. He approached the woman and, as she did, the bartender observed her closely, so did the people seated close to him.

Starbright gazed at the woman and asked, "Are you okay, miss?"

The woman started, her eyes widening in surprise at the sudden appearance of the cloaked stranger. The lines etched into her weathered face told a tale of hardships endured. "Oh, kind stranger," she breathed, voice quivering with gratitude, "a bit of warmth would be a blessing on this cold night."

The tavern's atmosphere held a palpable tension as all eyes turned towards the cloaked figure and the old lady. Starbright's movements were deliberate, his aura a mixture of quiet confidence and ethereal grace. With a swift, almost imperceptible motion, he conjured a soft, golden radiance that enveloped the woman in a tender embrace. It was a spell crafted with utmost care, a manifestation of celestial tenderness amidst the encroaching shadows.

The warmth emanated from the cocoon of light, pushing back the chill of the night and offering solace in its place. In the old lady's eyes, gratitude sparkled like a gem, a glimmering beacon of hope in a world that had often shown her little kindness. "Thank you," she breathed, her voice carrying the weight of a lifetime's experiences.

As her gaze lifted to meet Starbright's, anticipation danced in her eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the stranger who had bestowed such unexpected grace. Yet, the shadow that veiled his face was as impenetrable as the night itself. It gave the impression of a void, a darkness so deep it seemed to absorb even the feeble light around.

"May I see your face, kind stranger? I'd like to know who lent me a hand," she ventured, her request gentle but sincere.

Starbright's heart pounded, his hesitation woven with a tangle of emotions. A collective hush had fallen over the tavern, the patrons suspended in rapt attention, hanging on every word. The silence was so profound, it seemed the very air held its breath. "That won't be necessary," he murmured, his voice a mere whisper, laden with a sense of enigma.

With a measured retreat, Starbright returned to his seat, the eyes of the bar still fixed on him. The tale of his benevolence spread like wildfire, whispered and relayed with a sense of wonder. The ordinary had been touched by the extraordinary, leaving an indelible mark on the hearts of those who bore witness. Conversations swirled, questions buzzed, and in each face, a glint of something more profound ignited. They had glimpsed magic, an act of kindness so rare it bordered on the mythical. "Why did he do that?", "No human can be that kind to a complete stranger," "Could it be him?" The queries echoed through the tavern, carrying with them a sense of awe and wonder.

In the corner, nestled amidst shadows and half-hidden by the flickering glow of the magic orbs, sat a man with a face etched in scars, a testament to battles fought and wounds earned. He leaned over his tankard, eyes fixed on Starnight with a suspicion that hung in the air like a dark omen. His voice, gravelly and low, carried a murmur of discontent as he muttered something to his companions, their laughter sharp and biting, laced with a bitterness that seemed to seep into the very timbers of the tavern.

Starnight's senses danced on the precipice of alertness, a ripple of warning that shimmered through the air. His hand, steady and sure, instinctively found its way to the hilt of a concealed dagger, a comforting presence against his thigh. It was a silent promise, a last resort forged in the crucible of danger.

Time seemed to stretch and warp, seconds elongating into breathless minutes. The once-grateful patrons now wore expressions of restlessness, their eyes clouded with mistrust. Each gaze bore down upon Starnight, a weighty silence punctuated only by the unspoken questions that hung in the air like a shroud.

Then, as if ordained by fate, it happened. Out of nowhere, a gust of wind blew Starbright's hood, revealing his face. A young girl, no older than ten, looked at Starbright Shimmer, and pointed her finger directly at Starbright. Her voice, high-pitched and filled with terror, cut through the tavern's clamor like a shard of glass. "It's her! He's the one!"

The room erupted into chaos. Panic surged through the patrons, a wildfire of fear and anger that spread with voracious speed. Shouts and cries melded into a cacophony, an orchestra of chaos that echoed off the tavern's timeworn walls. Starbright's heart hammered against his ribs, a relentless rhythm of urgency that matched the pounding of boots on the tavern's creaking floorboards.

Without a single moment's hesitation, Starbright surged towards the tavern door, cloak billowing out behind her like a dark shroud caught in the wind. His movements were a symphony of grace and purpose, each step a testament to his resolve. The royal guards were coming, their presence announced by the thunderous resonance of their heavy boots, echoing through the narrow alleyway like the drumbeat of impending doom.

Starnight's steps were a dance of desperation and grace, barely skimming the cobbled path. He leaped over a forgotten crate, the momentum carrying him through the night air. A rush of cool wind greeted his face, a stark contrast to the stifling grasp of the tavern's air. The night embraced her, a silent ally in her flight.

Rounding a corner, the imposing silhouette of a brick wall loomed ahead, a formidable obstacle in his path. But Starnight was a specter, a phantom woven into the night itself, undeterred by mortal barriers. His presence was an ethereal force of nature, a testament to the power that surged within his veins.

With a final surge of energy, he launched himself forward, heart pounding in tandem with the relentless cadence of his footsteps. The guards' voices, once distant, now grew louder, a growing storm on his heels. Yet, Starnight was a comet streaking through the firmament, leaving a trail of stardust in his wake.

And then, in a burst of speed that seemed to defy the laws of mortal existence, he vanished into the Stary Forest, which was right behind the bar. He stood right at the edge of the forest, looking at the two royal guards dressed in the most regal attire. The two guards halted and dared not get any closer to the forest for it was a place no mortal could enter, unless they were transcendent, like Starbright the fallen Celestial. His breath came in ragged gasps, chest heaving, pulse echoing the fading beat of his pursuers. The ancient trees stood sentinel, their gnarled branches reaching skyward, their wisdom spanning epochs.

In the heart of the celestial realm, ensconced in the embrace of these venerable sentinels, Starnight finally released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. The forest whispered its secrets, the echoes of a thousand stars bearing witness to his flight. He felt a profound connection to the cosmos, an unbreakable thread woven into the tapestry of the universe. Without delay, he ventured deeper into the heart of the forest, just to stay safe. As he moved closer to the center of the mystic forest, the bark of the trees got whiter and more sparkly. It seemed as if stardust covered the trees.

In the heart of the forest, a sanctuary of ancient trees stood tall, their gnarled branches reaching towards the heavens. The air was thick with the earthy scent of moss and leaves, and a hushed symphony of rustling leaves played in the background.

Starnight, cloaked in the velvety embrace of the forest, felt the weight of his choices settle on his shoulders like a heavy cloak. It was as if the very essence of time had woven itself into the fibers, bearing witness to the tapestry of his existence - a constellation of regrets and triumphs, each one a brilliant star in his personal cosmos.

With solemn reverence, he sank to his knees on the soft bed of grass beneath him. The verdant blades, like a field of purest snow, cradled his weary frame. As his teardrops fell, they mingled with the dew-kissed earth, a silent offering to the ancient spirits that watched from above.

He gazed upwards, his eyes fixated on the glittering canopy of stars, each one a sentinel in the inky expanse. They obeyed the laws of the universe, a stark contrast to his own transgressions.

"Oh, great Celestials, I have fallen," Starbright's voice trembled, a desperate plea echoing through the woods. "If you can hear my plea, please, help me return to my former glory and curse this planet's inhabitants for degrading a Celestial."

In an instant, a star vanished from the sky, a subtle shift only discernible to one not bound by mortal limitations. A radiant beam of light burst forth, illuminating the forest with a celestial brilliance. Starbright's heart quickened as he beheld the being before him, an entity of pure light, a manifestation of cosmic power.

"Starbright Shimmer, fallen Celestial," the being intoned, its luminous gaze piercing through the darkness, bearing witness to the soul laid bare.